


Road Full of Promise

by Helasdottir



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ken Doll Android Anatomy | Androids Have No Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 21:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helasdottir/pseuds/Helasdottir
Summary: Five years into his relationship with Gavin, Nines learns of an opportunity to upgrade himself for the benefit of their relationship. Gavin distrusts android technicians almost as much as he once distrusted androids.





	Road Full of Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on the next chapter of Pretty Tied Up but real life delayed it - in the meantime, have a story I originally wrote on Twitter. 💗

Gavin assured him no modifications were necessary. He could live with Nines's limited sensation range, with temperature and texture sensors making up most of what he could feel. He cared enough to compromise his idealized physical relationship for his partner's sake. 

Nines was curious, though. He had analyzed Connor's reactions when they discussed their private lives, caught a glimpse or two of deeply guarded memory files when they interfaced. Connor had jumped on the procedure as soon as it was made available to his model. Even now, he shows no indication of regret.

He talks to technicians and mechanics and engineers, to the woman who developed the original plans for the _surgery_, to other androids who chose to have it done. He finds that Traci models are the easiest to modify - their program already simulates pleasure, it can simply be improved. Common household models are also simple, and Nines can't stop the error flashing over his HUD when he remembers they were designed as _fully compatible partners_. He's not sure if his discomfort stems from the casual objectification or his inability to be fully _anything_.

Gavin goes over the risks with him. He's a unique model, a unique challenge when it comes to custom modifications, an incomplete mystery even to those who put him together. Gavin insists he doesn't have to do this and Nines tries his best to explain that he wants to do it - he wants to feel Gavin's touch and respond accordingly, if nothing else.

Fear doesn't strike him until his back is against the operation table, his skin deactivated as cables are plugged into the back of his neck. He looks up into Gavin's worried gray eyes and feels his thirium pump constrict, a parody of a human heart. 

"You should not be here for this," he says, because Gavin is used to his skin glitching, but not to his chassis being ripped open, wiring exposed. He can't bear to watch the old discomfort and disgust bleed back into his partner's gaze after the years they spent deconstructing his anti-android sentiments.

"Don't be stupid," Gavin replies, hissing when he's shooed away by a technician with a glowing yellow LED. He sits in a chair just out of everyone's way and watches as Nines slips into repair mode, as gloved hands open his chassis and start rearranging and replacing wires. 

Careful, steady hands place computer chips into specialized ports under white plastic. Entire new ones are installed, followed by new bundles of minuscule white wiring placed attached closely to the underside of what Gavin learned to call _skin_. He bites his tongue to prevent himself from cursing when they talk about messing with Nines's thirium pump, taking it out to reroute some of the tubing that connects to it. A loud and bright neon countdown starts on one of the monitors the moment the piece is disconnected, and Gavin's heart stutters more with every second that goes by.

They reinsert it before the screen can show _00:00_, before Nines shuts down for good. Gavin draws his first breath in what feels like minutes.

They run tests throughout the entire process, and then more once they consider the surgery finished. Nines is still unconscious, but they test his body's responsiveness through code and electric stimuli. Gavin's throat tightens when he moves involuntarily on the table. He knows it's probably a good sign. 

They slowly disconnect external cables, close ports and put pieces back together. Nines becomes recognizable again, and when they run a startup program the spaces between his panels start to glow blue. 

A minute passes. Another, then another, and there's only one cable still hooked up to Nines, the only thing keeping Gavin sane because the monitor it connects to is running a standard startup sequence. That's what they tell him, at least, when he asks why his partner is still under.

Finally, Nines blinks awake. 

"Gavin?" he calls, and his voice crackles with static. Gavin is on his feet in a second, pushing past the technicians in the room to get to his partner and grab his hand, tell him he's there. Nines blinks again, slow and glitchy. He looks down at their joined hands. "Oh."

"What?" Gavin's eyes search his partner for additional glitches, for anything that might be wrong with him. His mind races with each small crackle from Nines's throat as he resets.

"I could not have anticipated the concrete reality of this feeling," Nines explains after a pause, and Gavin feels a wave of relief. Everyone else in the room is murmuring in approval, but the only reason he cares is because Nines is okay. Nines can _feel_ him.

"Everything you hoped for?" 

"It is different." Gavin nods, wonders if Nines is disappointed by the roughness of his hands. He swallows nervously. Nines's LED circles between blue and yellow as he addresses the person Gavin is thinking of as his surgeon. "May I leave to collect my own data on the effects of the procedure?"

Nines sounds clinical and emotionless, but Gavin can read him better than that. He knows _exactly_ what Nines just asked. Anxiety fading steadily, he feels his ears turn pink and refuses to look at anyone else in the room. Thankfully, they all agree everything seems safe, Nines can be discharged.

Gavin is hyperaware of the sound of Nines's fans working as they drive home. It's a faint hum, one he only knows because he spends so much time with ear pressed to the plastic of his boyfriend's body, listening for it. He worries it might be because of excessive strain caused by the new synthetic nerves, but it's more likely that Nines is just excited.

A good indicator is that he's not still and stiff as his usual self. Gavin glances away from the road long enough to notice the way his fingers run over the fabric of the seat, the plastic grain of the inside of the car door, his own clothes.

"How is it?" The question is a mixture of genuine curiosity and remaining concern. Gavin's eyes focus back on the road before he can think too deeply about his own emotions.

"The feedback is different." Nines considers his words, presses his lips together before deciding on an explanation. "I could analyze the thread count and base texture, but this is new. It's as if all the individual data joins together and creates- feeling. It's an emotion at my fingertips."

Gavin nods, pretends he understands because Nines has told him several times about what it is like to process touch. What it _was_ like. "Is it good?"

"It is fascinating," Nines replies, small eyes wide with wonder when Gavin spares a second glance at him. "Forgive me if I cannot contain my anticipation for exploration until the next procedure."

"What?" Gavin asks, brow furrowing. They never discussed a second operation. "That wasn't it?"

"I thought I made it clear I was installing the same upgrades as Connor," Nines replies with a slight frown, the most his limited range can manage. Gavin is still clueless. "Connor installed humanoid genitalia for the experience of intercourse with Lieutenant Anderson."

If Gavin were more mature, he might not have gagged loudly at the thought of Connor's dick and the places it might slot into. He shoots Nines a glare for forcing him to imagine such a thing. "TMI, Nines, jeez."

"What I mean is I have scheduled an appointment for the same."

"Do you want this?" Gavin asks, because he's learned that it's better than telling Nines he shouldn't do it for him. His fingers drum impatiently against the wheel.

"I have run several preconstructions that indicate the experience would be pleasant and rewarding for both of us." 

"Are you watching VR porn in the car?" Gavin can't help himself. The idea that Nines is sitting there, watching them together while looking absolutely impassive is amazing. "Fuck."

"It is not pornography," Nines replies. "Those files are not preconstructions, but recordings. There is a substantial difference."

On a base level, Gavin knows Nines uses recordings to keep memories, knows that's what every computer does, but he still chokes on his own spit when he realizes he can watch those back in vivid detail. They might even watch them _together_. 

"I would like to create new recordings for my memory bank as soon as possible, so please cease driving so far below the speed limit."

Gavin wants to kick him. Instead, he feels heat coil in his abdomen because he's become the kind of loser who falls for a computer trying to talk dirty.

"Calm your circuits, Nines." He steps on the gas and pushes them a little faster. It still takes them far too long to make it back to their apartment, and then they can't exactly fall into each other without restraint. Mail has been pushed under the door, and as Nines stops to read the old-fashioned advertisements and bills, Gavin has to deal with Lucifur at feet, whining like they haven't fed him in a week. 

Gavin curses at the cat when he meows for the fifteenth time, tries to pry open the lid of the dry food to mix with the special homemade mixture he gets as the most spoiled cat in Detroit. He still leans down to pet the dark fur, annoyance be damned, when the thing starts purring the second his dish hits the floor.

Gavin realizes Nines is looking at him, capturing the image of the once rough and aggressive Detective Reed losing his edge for a miniature killing machine. He thinks of his boyfriend, the whole 6'2" of murder-ready machinery, and realizes not for the first time that he may have a type.

"We're going to be very busy for a while now," Gavin starts, as if explaining office hours to a child. "So don't come scratching on the fucking door."

He looks up at Nines and catches the faintest upwards twitch of his lips. He's trying to smile.

Gavin checks Lucifur's water for good measure, to make sure they're not neglecting their one and only son, and gives him one last pat before standing and inclining his head towards the bedroom. Nines makes a low, mechanic sound as he moves from the spot he's been standing in for the past few minutes.

The bedroom door closes behind them, and then Nines is standing close, hands hovering an inch from Gavin's face and eyes begging for permission.

"What do you want, Ni?" Gavin places his own flat palms on the firm plastic of his boyfriend's abdomen, wonders if the operation messed with his perception of pressure.

"May I analyze the texture of your facial hair?" Nines asks, nervous enough to think Gavin might deny him. Instead of replying, he presses his face to one cool hand and nuzzles it, heart warming when the skin retreats and reveals bare chassis. He hates himself for ever being uncomfortable with the sight of Nines trusting him.

There's another crackle from somewhere inside Nines, and then his fingers are rubbing against the stubble, stroking it with and against the grain to capture every varying sensation. Nines doesn't ask permission to lean down and drag his lips over it.

It should be weird. It _is_ weird, by any normal standards, but it feels intimate and gentle and everything they weren't designed or raised to be.

They kiss, Nines still cradling his face in his hands, and Gavin wants to know how much Nines is feeling. Their tongues meet and instead of keeping things slow, Nines pushes him back against the door and almost slams one of Gavin's kidneys into the handle. Almost.

"Careful, tin can," Gavin mutters against Nines's lips when he's given a moment to breathe. It's not as if the android listens, too busy dipping his head to collect samples from Gavin's neck, rubbing his face against the skin and the start of his stubble. "Good?" Gavin asks, because Nines has never acted quite like this.

"I am still incapable of approximating taste," Nines announces. "However, your samples remain delightful to collect and analyze."

"You can analyze all you want," Gavin replies, pressing their lips together again. "But it's my turn to make you feel good; that's what this is about."

"I do not believe sexual relations function on an alternating- _oh_," Nines interrupts himself, because Gavin drags his teeth against the smooth plastic of his jaw and causes it to glitch. He follows it with a slow lick for good measure and thinks of what a shame it is he can't leave marks. "Alternating responsibilities, but rather cooperation for mutual satisfaction."

"Babe." Gavin is tempted to bite, but he hates his dentist enough to prevent a visit to the man. "Shut up and get on the bed, 'kay?" 

Nines hesitates, presses closer to Gavin because he's always been rather intoxicated by the way his sensors perceive heat, but finally relents. He's almost across the room when Gavin reminds him to strip.

"You sure you're okay for this?" Gavin asks when they're both nude, Nines on his back as Gavin climbs onto the mattress on his knees. "You're glitching more than usual."

"My diagnostic routine is running in the background," Nines assures him, and that's all he needs for now. He might nag later, hook Nines up to his laptop and run his own diagnostic - provided by Connor, designed by Josh, people he doesn't want to think about at the moment.

Gavin settles between Nines's legs, runs his fingers up smooth thighs and tries applying pressure, rubbing the synthetic skin with his thumbs and delighting in the rumbling sounds that come from inside the chassis. His hand finds the slight elevation of Nines's pubic mound, and there's a gentle shock when he first makes contact.

"Oh," Nines says through a crackle of static. He might not even realize he's pushing himself up into the contact as Gavin rubs with fascinated intensity. "I did not realize- it is so-"

"S'good?"

"_Yes_." Nines closes his eyes, his LED turns yellow, and his hand twitches on the sheets, trying to grab without pulling. "Gavin," he chokes out, and Gavin feels pride swell in him because this is the first time he's been able to stimulate his partner without sticking his fingers in the wiring that holds him together.

"You gotta tell me what you want." 

"I would appreciate-" another crackle interrupts his speakers, and the faint blue glow of his insides starts to seep through cracks in his skin. "Mouth. Please use your mouth, the sensation of your papillae is- pleasurable."

Gavin doesn't know or care what papillae means. He moves further down the mattress, leans forward and presses his lips where Nines should have a belly button. He wasn't made for integration, Cyberlife didn't bother. He licks the skin there, trails down with kisses while his fingers still work the empty space between his boyfriend's legs, feels his physical response to the increase in volume from the fans inside Nines's torso.

In this state of mind, he might even agree to encourage Nines to install genitalia.

"You've never been this needy," he comments, using his teeth again just to see Nines practically rise off the bed in response. He finally closes his mouth over the elevated plastic, rubs at it with his tongue and wonders how he got to the point where the sound of a damaged television turns him on so much.

Nines being responsive and his own version of _loud_ is enough to send one of Gavin's hands straight to his pants, struggling with the button because the pressure is almost painful.

"I would like- oh, to analyze that," Nines says, skin glitching with more intensity now. It's his way of ordering Gavin not to get off with his own hand. There's nothing Gavin can say to that, because it's not as if his dry palm beats an expertly designed synthetic muscle covered in analysis fluid.

"Not yet," he says instead, because this is still about Nines. Gavin only wishes he could analyze things the way his boyfriend does, because there isn't much taste to plastic and synth skin. He gets his own zipper down, then brings both hands back to cup Nines's thighs as he creates a mess on the smooth surface between them.

He knows they hit the first goal when Nines's leg twitches, raises off the bed, then goes limp as his mouth opens to release warm air. Gavin is kind enough to give him a moment to cool his internal components before going for a second orgasm.

"Ga-vin, Gavin, Gah-" Nines repeats, because now he is capable of feeling over-stimulation and his HUD is flashing brightly with new input he struggles to process.

Gavin doesn't see reason to stop. Nines has reduced him to a sobbing mess more than once, it's only polite to do the same.

The second time Nines comes, his entire lower body loses its skin for at least three seconds. The third time, the crackle of static is so intense it scares Gavin, and the silence between that and Nines's whiny plea for more is enough to nearly flag his erection.

He asks what Nines wants again, though, and the answer almost overloads _his_ brain. Something about the formality, the deep voice and the utter lack of emotion even as gray eyes shine with adoration, it's almost too much.

"My mouth is producing excessive amounts of analysis fluid in anticipation for your use," are the words slipping from Nines's too-thin lips, and Gavin hates how lightheaded he gets when all the blood rushes from his brain. "Furthermore, I would appreciate direct contact with your skin."

"You can't say shit like that," Gavin replies, when he finds out how to produce words again. He's sitting up, pulling off his shirt with none of Nines's grace and fluidity, tossing it onto the floor because he doesn't care right now. He hardly reaches the waistband of his pants before Nines rises from the bed to meet his chest with his mouth, running a now-hot tongue over an erect nipple just to make Gavin shiver. "Nines, fuck."

"That is precisely what we are doing," Nines's speakers emit, but his mouth doesn't move because it's otherwise engaged. That is still freaky after half a decade, and it will continue to be unsettling for many more - if Gavin is lucky enough.

He manages to shove his pants down his thighs, get them awkwardly over his knees and kick them off without dislodging Nines for long. Perfect resin teeth bite into his chest, leave behind soft red marks that should fade by the end of the day, and Gavin can't really help the noises leaving him at the moment.

Then Nines's hand closes around his erection, warmer than the rest of his body on purpose, and Gavin almost begs. 

Nines pulls away, rearranges the pillows into his favorite position and rests on his back with his head towards Gavin, head hanging back over the pile, his mouth at the perfect height when he opens it in invitation. Gavin has to count to ten just to keep himself from coming.

"Ready?" he asks when he's composed himself enough, and Nines only blinks his reply. Gavin closes a hand over the firm, pale throat, gentle and loving and without the pressure he knows wouldn't cause any pain or discomfort. He pushes inside slowly and Nines closes his lips around him, starts that gentle sucking routine he learned is efficient when working Gavin up, presses the flat of his tongue against the head.

Gavin takes it slow at first. He moves his hips in shallow thrusts, uses his free hand to release the access port near Nines's thirium pump, slips his fingers in to stroke the wires. Nines whines, crackles, and there is no one consistent color shining from his LED. Gavin takes this as a sign to proceed, and he pushes forward into Nines's throat and begins using him as he desires, taking his pleasure.

Nines comes twice more before Gavin does. That's impressive, because with the way his android is reacting to every new stimulus, Gavin doesn't hold off long at all. He holds himself deep in Nines's throat and moans his name, tugs the wires he's still holding as he spills.

Gavin breathes, holds himself in place because he knows he can, waits for himself to soften before pulling out of the mouth that has no right to be that soft and warm. He closes Nines's access port, strokes his cheek and leans in to kiss him upside-down.

"Ni?" Gavin needs to check in, to make sure those diagnostic routines caught nothing. He smiles when Nines makes a low, mechanical hum in reply. "Was that what you wanted?"

"Gavin," the android replies, slowly rolling off the pile of pillows and onto his front. "It was perfect."

"Any errors?" Gavin asks, not ready to stop touching Nines just yet. He strokes down his neck, over the plates covering his shoulder, traces circles into the plastic as it reveals itself to his touch.

"I am in perfect working order."

They tangle on the bed, legs locking together, and go back to sharing kisses as Nines tries his best to describe how new and intense the sensations are.

Eventually Gavin will shower and Nines will wipe down his chassis. The first time they did this, Gavin was terrified at the sight of Nines's cleaning routine - there's something deeply disturbing about Nines opening his throat like a cabinet, calmly cleaning the inside of his pipes as his insides sit exposed. It had caught him off guard, but now it's almost like watching your significant other brush their teeth. Oddly charming. 

Gavin presses his ear to Nines's chest, listens to his fans as they work to cool him down from such an intense session, and sighs happily.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @hassumccoy or @daughterofdeath and on twitter @xhelasdottir.


End file.
